Warrant to Fly
by The Smokey Gerbil Cloud
Summary: What happens when Fang, going under his real name, Nicholas Vickerman, meets rebellious teen gymnast Haley Graham? Why does Fang not act like Fang any more, and why did Fang choose to stay with his uncle, Burt, instead of the beloved Flock? No Wings. Rated T for caution and swearing. The rest of the Flock will appear later in the story. Begins at the start of the Stick it movie.


(A/N): Hey Guys! So, this is the first chapter of my new fanfic, Warrant to Fly. Now, don't expect me to update often, or perhaps even at all, seeing as I am currently concentrating on my Harry Potter fanfic, Into the Fire. Nonetheless, I hope you like this story, seeing as it is the only Stick it/Maximum Ride crossover out there.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Fang's backstory.

* * *

Haley

This isn't the first time I've made out with law enforcement. We've kind of had this ongoing flirtation. We've been on some dates. You know, broken up, got back together. But honestly, until now...I haven't been ready for anything steady.

I was in _big_ trouble now.

My two best friends, Poot and Frank, and I were hanging out at a local construction project that had several deep but empty swimming pools, practising some tricks on our bikes. Of course, since we had found the best spot in town, a bunch of jerks with skateboards wanted this pool for themselves. There were six other perfectly fine pools, why couldn't they just use them!? When we refused to leave, they decided to challenge us for it, going off the roof, down a ladder, onto the slide and then into the pool. Of course, I accepted the challenge, and I went to face the incompetent asshole who had even _dared_ to challenge us. He goes down, and fails, falling off his skateboard as he attempts to finish by going up the side of the pool. Then when I did it, I pulled it off perfectly...until I crashed through the window of one of the half-finished houses, getting my bike stuck in the metal bars at the top of the stairs. Typically, when Poot went to open the door to let us out, the alarm started to ring. We all took off in different directions, my two best friends on their bikes, the three jerks on their skateboards, and me legging it on foot.

Of course, being the only one on foot, the police quickly found and caught up with me, bringing me in. Now I was sitting in a court room, facing a judge, with my mother behind me on one side, my father on the other.

"It looks to be about, uh, 14,000 in property damage. Haley, I assure you that juvenile incarceration is not as much fun as it sounds. So we're going to give you one more chance. Your father is willing to subsidize two options..." The judge told us, before my parents started fighting, as per usual.

"I'll take her, your honour!" My mother piped up, and my father scoffed.

"Over my dead body, you dumped us, remember?" I winced slightly at the mention of their split.

"The Texas military Academy, or a facility called..." the Judge checked her notes, obviously pretending that my parents weren't squabbling in the background. "VGA." I sat bolt upright, shocked, and my mother protested.

"Are you crazy?! This is not okay! VGA!?" My mother cried, and I grimaced, just wanting her to shut the fuck up. "Let me have custody, your honour." I rolled my eyes, waiting for my father's imminent reply.

"Alice!" There it was.

"All right, now stop this, both of you." The judge ordered, before turning her attention to me. "Haley, I leave it to you to decide. Where would you like to go?" The judge asked, and I stared up at her for a second, wondering if she was serious. No one usually gave me a choice.

"Texas military Academy, your honour." I told her, and she raised an eyebrow slightly.

"VGA it is." She announced, banging her gavel, and I sat bolt upright.

"What!?" And that's how I ended up at VGA, or the Vickerman Gymnastics Academy.

I entered the spacious gym, wearing a pair of long and baggy camouflage shorts, accompanied by a paint splattered yellow hoodie, with a baseball cap pushed down on my head, a backpack on my back, and running shoes. Totally inappropriate for gymnastics, just like me. Looking around, I could see that the people who had already caught sight of me were glaring, but I simply rolled my eyes at them, trying not to let it hurt me. I could see, and hear, Burt Vickerman, and frankly, I already hated the guy.

"Ladies, read my mind. Read my mind, Ladies." I rolled my eyes again. Seriously? This guy sounding like a total dick. You see, Burt Vickerman used to whip up the best gymnasts west of the Mississippi. That is, until his gym started producing more injuries than champions. We'd never met, and I'd been hoping to keep it that way.

"Is my mind saying 'relax'? Maybe you can read my mind, and it's completely lost. Have I lost my mind ladies?" I'd have to say yes to that, Vicki. "Is that why you're staring off into space?" Maybe it's because they're so bored they actually feel asleep with their eyes open.

"Ah." He said as he noticed me, and I tried to keep the grimace off my face, I really did.

"Join us." I shuffled forward, and it was at that moment that one of the girls on the beam, one I recognised, spoke up.

"What is she doing here?" She asked, disgust tinting her voice. Joanne Charis. Four-time national team member, five-time national Haley hater. Why all the hate? Well, when you walk out on Worlds and lose Team USA some Team gold, it's not personal, it's national. And in the world of Gymnastics, hating me was almost a sport, in and of itself.

"Everyone, Haley Graham has..._graciously _come out of retirement to join us. Being out of shape isn't funny, no making fun of her." Vickerman told the other girls, and I internally rolled my eyes. Of course, they were going to make fun of me the second he turned his back, and it wasn't to be about how 'out of shape' I was. I'll show you 'out of shape' you old man. How did it feel fighting off the dinosaurs Vicki?

"Get dressed Haley." He said, gesturing to the clothes I was wearing which were, as I told you earlier, not appropriate for Gymnastics.

"Yeah uh...I accidently burned all my leotards last year, hope this is okay." Vickerman shook his head slightly, exasperated.

"You warmed up?" I raised an eyebrow.

"What, to you? No." He rolled his eyes and turned around before calling to me over his shoulder.

"Stretch and join Vault Rotation. Let's see where you're at." He said, and I shrugged, stretching before going and joining two other girls, one blonde, one a small Asian girl.

"We're warming up Yurchenko's." One of them said, and I smiled slightly.

"Super, I'm going for a Butt-ahara." The two girls looked confused.

"You mean a Tsukahara?" I shook my head.

"Nooo, I mean a Butt-ahara." They still looked confused, so I decided to demonstrate for them just how a Butt-ahara was done. I exhaled before clearing my throat, followed by another exhalation. I took off down towards the vault, my arms flailing out behind me, my legs swinging out slightly. I jumped onto the springboard before twisting in the air, landing ass first on the vault. I placed the back of my hand under my chin.

"Bing!" I said with a grin before brushing off my nails on my shirt. "I know, my landing was a little off." I told Vicki after jumping off the edge of the vault.

"Oh, no. Take a seat." I did as he said, taking a seat on the edge of the stage. "You just need to pick up your run a little bit." I smiled slightly, amused. "Ivan can help you with that." Confusion took over me.

"Hmmm?"

"Ivan." A muscled man walked over, grabbing my legs and quickly swung me over his shoulder, my face directly behind his butt.

"Don't you dare fart." I told him, still struggling to be put down.

The troll of a man carried me all the way into another, older looking gym.

"Put me down Shrek!" I grunted, only to me dropped heavily onto a floor mat.

"This isn't the real world, this is my world. You don't have to like me, or like it here, But you do have to respect it." I stared up at him, dumbstruck.

"Respect?" I asked with a small chuckle, incredulous. "Is this how you respect people? You throw them over a shoulder and violate their personal space?" Vicki rolled his eyes, chewing his gum for a few seconds.

"Oh goody. I heard you were like this, I'm so glad it's true." I moved over to the beam opposite Vickerman, placing a hand on it's familiar surface.

"What is it that you've done to earn my respect?" He walked around the side of the other balance beam, staring me down.

"We have rules. We have rules for training." He said, lowering his head slightly as if trying to make sure I understood.

"Oh." I said, propelling myself up to sit on the beam with my hands on either side of me.

"And the reason we have rules, and coaches, is because this is gymnastics." I started making funny faces, bored by the fact he was trying to get me to behave. Well Vicki, that just isn't my style. He reached his hand up and knocked the baseball cap off my head with his fingers.

"Hey!" I exclaimed indignantly, outraged that he was being so rude. "That was rude." I told him with a sigh.

"While danger and risk is the reality of what we do Haley, it's calculated. Can't be calculated if you don't respect the laws." I leaned back, groaning, before realising he was still watching me.

"uh huh." I said, trying to at least pretend to sound interested. He stared at me for a few seconds longer before grabbing me behind the knee and tipping me off the beam backwards.

"The laws of gravity, for instance." He said loudly, leaning over the beam slightly to look down at me as I clambered to my feet.

"Okay, what's your point?" I asked, staring at him, trying to get a straight answer.

"Look, I want you back here tomorrow morning, ten a.m, ready to train. Or, we can call the judge, and you can go to jail. Hey, you decide." He said, like he was giving me a proper choice in the matter.

"Don't expect me to train." I called back to him, heading for the exit.

"And lose the hat tomorrow." I smirked slightly.

"Lose the gum." I called back as I reached the door, moving through it without hearing a reply. I walked down the gravel driveway, trying to find the house I was going to be living in with the other girls, but I was soon interrupted.

"He's not all bad, you know." My head snapped up, glancing around, and for a few seconds I could see anyone, but then I saw him. He was leaning up against the side of the building I had just come out of, and he looked almost out of place here. He wore a light grey button down shirt, a pair of dark blue, almost black jeans, his obsidian eyes masked slightly by the rectangular shaped wire-framed glasses he wore. His hair was jet black, slightly wavy and down to his chin, tucked behind his ears gently. He had olive-toned skin, and on his feet he wore a pair of black dress shoes. He was around my age, but his eyes were wise, as if they had seen a lot in their time. His lips were curved at the edges into a slight smile, which was oddly comforting.

"Who?" I asked, momentarily confused. He chuckled slightly, pushing off of the wall to stand in front of me, and I noticed for the first time that he was taller than me by at least a few inches.

"Vickerman. He's not all bad." The boy reiterated, and I shook my head slightly, cursing myself for being so stupid.

"Right. While I disagree, I'll be sure to keep that in mind." As I went to walk past him, he grabbed my arm. Not roughly, or even in a way to stop me, only to catch my attention, his grip gentle.

"My name's Nick. You must be Haley graham." He told me, and I frowned slightly. Great, was he another one of my haters? If so, why was he being so nice to me?

"I am, what's it to you?" He let go of my arm, turning around to stand by my side.

"Just wanted to let you know that life isn't so bad here once you get used to it." He explained with a shrug, and I frowned again.

"Nice to know, creepy guy." He chuckled lightly, and I smiled slightly before frowning.

"I'm not that creepy, really. Though, of course, if I was that creepy, I'd probably say the exact same thing." I snorted quietly at his statement, and I could see his smile widen out the corner of my eye.

"Yeah, whatever. So, what are you doing here? You don't exactly look like a gymnast, and you're too young to be a coach." I questioned, and he shrugged again.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself again." He stopped walking, and I did too, not wanting to be rude. After all, he was the first person to be nice to me since I got here. "My name's Nick Vickerman, I'm Burt's nephew." I felt my eyebrows rise, and I stared at him for a second, dumbstruck.

"But you don't look like-" he cut me off with a smile and a shake of his head.

"My mother, who I got my looks from, married Burt's brother. That's why I don't look like him." I nodded slowly, digesting this new information.

"But you seem so _nice_." I told him, and he laughed again.

"I told you, Burt's not all bad." He repeated before starting to walk backwards, his hands in his pockets.

"Have fun at training tomorrow!" He called with a wave before turning around, walking away, and I groaned.

"Great, training."

* * *

(A/N): So, did you like?

Please review and/or check out my other stories! (I have thirty stories in total now!)


End file.
